Sights Set
by Lutralutra
Summary: Shibasaki may be smart, but her curiosity is insatiable. And although Tezuka is the most perceptive person she's ever met, he can still be dense. High school AU, TezukaxShibasaki, side pairing of DoujouxKasahara.
1. Chapter 1: Monday's Smile

AAAAAAHHHH! There's actually a Toshokan Sensou category on this site! I never thought this beautiful, beautiful day would come! Although it's under the English name, Library War, which in my opinion is less cool. And it only has one story so far (which I haven't read yet, but I'm going there now), but with this, there will be two. Still, awesomeness. More love to this great series.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Toshokan Sensou, _novel, manga or anime, nor do I own Ray Bradbury's _Fahrenheit 451.

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**Chapter 1 - Monday's Smile **

She smiled at him on Monday morning.

Shibasaki Asako was well aware of what her smile did to boys, especially when she smiled that smooth, serene smile that had a touch of suggestive impishness in it. After years of compliments, invitations and flirtations, she was very adept at using it to her advantage, combined with her long, silky black hair, delicate features and smoky, dark eyes.

But she didn't smile at him for the usual reasons - namely, because she saw something she wanted. She smiled because she was curious about him, this overly serious, reserved boy at the top of all his classes - in competition with her for that honour - this boy who, in spite of noticeable good looks, evaded popularity with his sober, studious manner.

Shibasaki Asako was curious about Tezuka Hikaru.

She carefully analyzed his reaction as she sat down next to him, gracefully sweeping her lustrous hair back over her shoulders. The thought of smiling back didn't seem to occur to him; but his small, keen brown eyes followed her, thin eyebrows angling downwards in a slight frown. His eyebrows never curved or arched; they were always straight, either shooting up or rigidly lowering. They made him seem like a very inflexible person, an impression reinforced by his neatly ironed shirts and pants, the organized state of his books, and of course his strait-laced attitude. The only thing mildly radical about him was his hairstyle; it stuck up, flat on top, with sideburns and an unusual widow's peak part at the centre of his forehead.

Shibasaki pretended not to be observing any of this as she casually flipped open her English binder. He was still looking at her, and that pleased her. She wasn't an attention-seeker, but she did like being looked at. Especially when she was baffling someone, and she was confident that that smile out of the blue would puzzle Tezuka Hikaru, the guy with all the answers, to no end.

Strategically, she waited until he had looked away, sitting up in his chair and directing his gaze to the front in preparation for the lesson, and then she turned and said pleasantly, "Good morning, Tezuka."

It was immensely satisfying to see his attention snap back to her. He had a very direct way of looking that made Shibasaki feel as if he was _really _looking at her, not just at her pretty hair or lips or breasts. "Shibasaki," he returned, curtly but politely. He was the kind of person who knew all of his classmates' names despite never having said a word to most of them.

"Oh, the teacher's here," she commented as the tall, glasses-wearing man walked in to the classroom. _Nice timing, _she thought, satisfied. She gave Tezuka another vague smile and then focused on the lesson.

As usual, she observed Tezuka during the hour-long period - it was one of the things that fascinated her, the way he changed during this English class. He was in several of her advanced courses, always sitting attentively at the front, answering every question promptly and correctly and rarely speaking otherwise. But in this specific class alone, he was different; he sat at the very back, beside her, and although he listened flawlessly, he only participated when called upon by the teacher, and even then she sensed a kind of reluctance in him. Also, his silence was a habit, but in this course it was not just the silence of a good listener and conscientious student, but a harsher, smouldering quiet, as if he were deeply resentful or sulky about something.

His mood swing was only visible to an exceptional observer, but that Shibasaki was, and it made her curious about him. She wondered if there was more to him than met the eye. Or perhaps he simply hated English.

She'd guessed rightly that he was the type who liked to have a solution for everything, and so he was fairly aggravated by the end of lesson, with her inexplicable advances towards him. Content with her work, she gathered up her things and made as if to sweep by his desk, when he stood abruptly in her path, stopping her.

She blinked. That was unexpected. He was more direct and demanding than she had thought if he was going to interrogate her.

"Do you want something?" he asked her bluntly.

"Not really," she said easily. She smiled serenely up at him - he was tall - and stepped to the side. "Excuse me."

His frown was very deep now, his lips tight, but he shifted wordlessly to let her pass. "I'll see you tomorrow," she told him lightly as she left him.

He didn't answer, and she was surprised at how hard it was to fight the urge to glance back at him and try to read his expression. She even hesitated in the doorway, tempted. Then she tilted her head, smiled to herself, and walked on.

* * *

"He's such a bastard! And he's _short!" _Shibasaki listened amusedly to her close friend Kasahara Iku rant energetically about her next-door neighbour and best frenemy Doujou Atsushi, with whom she kept up an unending feud. "Like, if I'm here - " Kasahara held her palm up to her head - "then he's way down _here!_" She lowered her hand to somewhere around her hip, a rather gross exaggeration of the height difference between her and Doujou. "He's like an _ant. _An annoying ant."

"I heard that," Doujou's voice came from behind Kasahara as he set his tray down on the cafeteria table next to theirs. "And since I'm a human being with feelings, I can't guarantee that it won't affect my opinion during our peer evaluations in French."

Her face having gone from blanched-white to angry red in a matter of seconds, Kasahara twisted in her chair to shout at the back of his neck, "You jerk! You wouldn't dare! We get actual _points _for those things, you know!"

Shibasaki rested her chin in her palm as Kasahara and Doujou railed back and forth until Kasahara tired of the argument (or ran out of witty comebacks, as was more likely), and stood up haughtily, announcing, "I've lost my appetite. Let's go, Shibasaki."

Shibasaki followed her, having had plenty of time to eat her own lunch during the live entertainment, but as she passed behind Doujou's chair, where he sat scowling fiercely, she leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry. She likes you."

He started violently, nearly upsetting his tray, and Shibasaki sailed tranquilly on past, having satisfactorily patched up their quarrel. She shook her head in good-humoured exasperation; people like Kasahara and Doujou needed all the help they could get, really.

"Why don't you ask him to dinner?" she suggested to Kasahara as she joined her in the hallway.

"Who, Doujou?" Kasahara said dismissively. "He already comes to dinner sometimes anyway." He lived next door and their families knew one another, so that was no rarity.

"I mean, ask him to dinner _alone,_" Shibasaki pressed, looking skyward.

Kasahara reacted to that more or less the way Shibasaki had expected. "Ehhh? _Him? _What? No way!" she exclaimed, making a ridiculously scandalized face.

Obviously it was too early for someone as clueless and immature as Kasahara to consider anything like that. But Shibasaki believed in the power of repeated reinforcement - if she talked about it and hinted at it often enough, eventually the girl would start thinking about it, and eventually, get around to doing it. And of course, Shibasaki would be there to supervise when it happened.

"Hey, what about _you_?" Kasahara demanded, turning the tables. "You're always pushing me and Doujou together for some crazy reason, but don't you have anyone you're interested in?"

"I like to keep my options open," Shibasaki replied glibly, but an image of Tezuka's serious face passed unbidden through her mind. She was interested in him; she would go so far as to say that she had set her sights on him. But no further, for the moment.

"Hmph," Kasahara grumbled, folding her arms over her chest at the lame excuse. Shibasaki just smiled.

* * *

As she did almost every day after school, Shibasaki headed for the library that Monday. She didn't belong to any high school clubs as such, despite her general liking for socializing, but she had helped out at the school library since the beginning of ninth grade. Similarly, she volunteered at the public library during the summer, shelving books, assisting patrons and inputting new titles into the system. Shibasaki liked libraries; they were quiet, restful places full of fascinating stories and information.

She greeted the librarian genially - they were practically old friends by now - and shed her sweater in the room's comfortable warmth, leaving it on a chair beside her shoulder bag. Then she slipped on her reading glasses and tied her hair back into a slapdash but fairly clean bun, letting a few long strands graze her collarbone at the neckline of her pale pink fitted T-shirt. She let her hair down for maximum effect, but it got in the way sometimes.

She climbed up onto a stepladder to shelve a returned book, and it wobbled slightly as it was wont to, but she took no notice, especially since it steadied a moment later. It was a bit shaky, but perfectly stable, or at least it hadn't toppled anyone yet, and it had been put to the test by much heavier people than slender Shibasaki.

Hands empty, she tilted her head back to watch her step as she descended the ladder, only to let out a low gasp and nearly lose her balance from pure astonishment.

"Oh! Tezuka," she exclaimed with a touch of breathlessness. Dark-haired and stern-faced, he stood on the floor, head level with her hip. She glimpsed his fist gripping the ladder's metal bar, anchoring it. Unexpectedly moved by his unprompted assistance, she smiled and lowered herself down the rungs. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," he replied evenly. He was an extremely courteous person, Shibasaki was beginning to realize; gentlemanlike, even. It was rather endearing.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked, explaining, "I'm a library assistant here."

"I'm fine," he declared brusquely, hardly hesitating before segueing into, "may I ask you something, though?"

"Of course, go ahead."

"What were your intentions in English class?" he asked without preamble.

She blinked at his point-blank style, then laughed kindly. "Has that been annoying you all day? I'm sorry, it's just that you seem the sort of person to get impatient when waiting for answers."

He frowned, then softened slightly and admitted, "It's been frustrating."

She began to walk down the aisle of books, speaking as she went. He trailed her closely. "Well, since you've been honest, I will be too. I was curious about you."

"Curious about me?" he repeated.

"Yes. You're very intelligent, a model student, and you never lapse out of that routine. But during English, you lower your standards a bit - you listen and you participate, but grudgingly. That change in behaviour intrigued me, so I wanted to get to know you a little better." She looked over at him as she crouched in front of a shelf, scanning the book bindings along the row. "And they say the best way to breach communication is with a smile."

He seemed nonplussed at her reasons. "I...lower my standards?"

"They're still very high," she reassured him smilingly.

"Thank you," he said carefully, the bridge of his nose wrinkled intently. "But wouldn't you say your motives are somewhat - bizarre? If you'll forgive me for saying so."

"My curiosity is easily piqued, but often by the most bizarre things," she responded smoothly, thereby reversing his comment so that the label of "bizarre" was no longer aimed at her but at his behaviour. This was not lost on him, and he cocked an eyebrow quizzically.

"Here we go," Shibasaki spoke out in satisfaction, sliding a book out of the shelf and depositing it gently in his hands. He stared down at it. "_Fahrenheit 451,_" she informed him, tapping its cover lightly. "Ray Bradbury. An interesting book with interesting themes."

His gaze flashed up to meet hers. "You're saying I should read it?"

"I don't know if it's your type of book," she said, brushing some loose black hair behind her ear, "but going on the assumption that your type may be similar to my type, I'm recommending it."

"I see," he said. He had an excellent poker face, but Shibasaki could tell that he was totally confounded by just about everything she'd told him. She almost felt sorry for him; it had been a long time since she'd deliberately gone about singling someone out like this. Tezuka was a much better target for it than Kasahara, at any rate; any mind games Shibasaki attempted on her just went right over her head.

He squinted penetratingly at her, mentioning, "You're wearing glasses."

It was her turn to be taken aback, albeit approvingly so. Apparently nothing escaped him. "Yes - I usually only wear them when I intend to do a lot of reading, since I don't see that badly without them. I also wear contacts a lot."

He nodded, adding suddenly, "Glasses suit you. They go with your image."

Her lips parted in surprise at the compliment, then curved into the latest of many smiles that day. He was more unpredictable than she had initially believed. She liked that - it made her even more curious.

Their conversation had been quiet and undisruptive, but it seemed time for it to end anyway. "Thanks for the recommendation," Tezuka said, in a wooden tone that she recognized as awkwardness.

"Anytime," she answered simply. "Please come by again."

He exited via a table in the corner, where he picked up a few books he had placed there previously - he was a frequent visitor to the library, she knew, as she had seen him here many times in the past. It just so happened that this time, he had steadied her stepladder and spoken to her.

She watched discreetly as he checked out the books, and was happy to see the librarian stamp _Fahrenheit 451 _along with the rest. She watched him stop in the doorway, too, and look back, not resisting the temptation as she had. She waved amiably; after a pause, he raised his hand in return.

That night, Shibasaki put on her glasses and examined herself thoughtfully in the mirror.

* * *

A/N: I think I made Shibasaki smile too much for one chapter...but she seems like a generally cheerful person, if somewhat _devious_, right...?

Anyway, as I said up top, I don't own the novel _Fahrenheit 451 _by Ray Bradbury either, although I have read it. For those of you who haven't read it or heard what it's about, it has something of a connection to the plot of Toshokan Sensou, which is why I chose it, although it's not a personal favourite of mine. Any opinions/commentaries expressed on it by Shibasaki or Tezuka in this story are purely of my own fabrication, and have nothing to do with the author or publishing company or anything, just to make sure we're all clear about that.

I kind of stole from the anime in that Doujou-Kasahara scene, in case you didn't notice (I don't know where that "peer evaluations in French" thing came from, but it's high school, so I had to think of _something_). Also, since I can't really imagine Shibasaki or Tezuka being referred to as Asako or Hikaru, I'm just going to have everyone call them by their last names (same with Doujou and Kasahara). Please ignore it! By the way, the setting is a Western high school, so don't expect any "-kun" or "-san", or cute uniforms, or anything like that.

Chapter 2 is already begun, but some feedback would, I'm sure, make it infinitely better. :)


	2. Chapter 2: Interesting Themes

Today is the second anniversary of my joining this site, the fateful day having been July 6, 2007. So I figured it was a good day to upload. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Library War/Toshokan Sensou, Fahrenheit 451, or anything else I didn't make up.

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**Chapter 2 - Interesting Themes  
**

Shibasaki set her pen down and rested her chin on her hand, tilting her head in the direction of the desk beside her, of course occupied by none other than Tezuka. He was still writing, his script moving slowly but unfalteringly across the page, impeccably neat, no smudges or deformed letters. She admired it, actually, although it was probably the only reason why she always finished before him. Tezuka's work was of the highest quality, but he never rushed it. Shibasaki took great care with her own tasks, but she couldn't deny that her concentration didn't match his. _He's completely immersed in it, _she thought amusedly as she watched him scrawl carefully. _It would take a Category Five earthquake to snap him out of that. _

He did finish, however, and she expected him to take out his books and do some studying as he always did. But although he withdrew a book from his bag, it was no textbook - emblazoned on the cover were the familiar words, _Fahrenheit 451. _She forgot to observe subtly and ended up staring openly, feeling an unanticipated but nonetheless very pleasurable feeling swell and bloom in her chest.

Tezuka opened to somewhere around the middle of the novel - apparently he'd dipped into it already - and then, before beginning to read, he paused and glanced up at her. She felt the smile spread slowly across her lips, taking over on its own initiative. She had just leaned over to whisper something to him when she noted the presence of the teacher, a little too close for safe communication.

She gave up on the attempt, but as they shared a covert look out of the corners of their eyes, perhaps it wasn't really necessary anyway.

* * *

He stood up again as she left, but this time it seemed to be out of courtesy - he was letting her pass first. Another gentlemanlike move, so out-of-place in this high school setting yet so natural for Tezuka. It made Shibasaki want to do something sweet and ladylike in return, like curtsey or kiss his cheek. In fact, she thought she'd rather enjoy seeing the expression on his face if she did either of those things. But there were some things you had to leave unknown just to preserve your own dignity. So she walked by, then stopped just outside the door.

He looked a bit startled to find her waiting for him, but when she started down the hallway, he fell into step with her easily. "Good morning," she said complacently, holding her books against her chest.

"Good morning," he returned. She had to lengthen her strides just a bit to keep up with him - it couldn't be helped, with those long legs of his. He was even taller than Kasahara...what a rarity...hmm, there was a possibility there...but no, Doujou was undoubtedly the one for her. And from what she knew of both, Tezuka and Kasahara didn't seem precisely _compatible_. Although, just the thought of them together made her mind overflow with all kinds of entertaining scenarios.

"So, how is your reading going?" she asked.

"It was a good recommendation," he admitted immediately. He could be grudging about it, but Tezuka wasn't a withholder of deserved acknowledgment. "As you said, interesting themes."

She didn't miss all the openings he left for her, inviting her to continue and deepen the conversation. Maybe he enjoyed their little chats as much as she did. The thought was pleasing, and also slightly flattering. "They are, aren't they?" she agreed simply. "A dystopia where the most important freedoms are repressed - the freedom of speech, and even of thought."

"Yes," Tezuka said, then hesitated as if he wanted to add something but needed time to think it over properly first. He went on, more slowly, "The writing is very bleak. I think it makes the setting seem even worse than it is."

"You think so?" she murmured. "Personally, I think there's room for more worsening. For me, a world where books were forbidden would be very, very bleak. And I think the author makes his own feelings very clear with that style."

Tezuka's following silence was pensive. "You're right," he finally agreed. "Books are a vital part of society. I would be against anything that involved taking the option of reading them away from me."

"It's all about the option," Shibasaki concluded. "Even if I had no particular desire to read a certain book, I would still want the option of being able to read it. Because I believe that's my right."

"Of course," Tezuka replied, and the force, the firmness in his voice as he said it suddenly made Shibasaki feel closer to him, as if he shared her fundamental values, her most basic feelings.

Perhaps that was what prompted her to say, "If you really do consider the topic worth thinking about, then you might be interested in hearing my speech on censorship, or more specifically, censorship relating to literature. Book banning, you might say. I'm presenting it this Friday evening at the District Exhibition." She turned to face him fully as she extended the invitation; she'd always found that people were more apt to accept when she used the power of her looks. She wasn't abashed by this behaviour; charm and beauty were gifts not to be wasted. Not that she put herself on any especially high pedestal in either of those fields, but she didn't pretend that she wasn't above average.

Tezuka started rather violently, lips parting and brow wrinkling in consternation as he met her serene gaze. "The District Exhibition?" he repeated sharply.

She allowed mild surprise to colour her features. She couldn't imagine why he'd be so shocked at her participation in the event; the District Exhibition was essentially a soiree for the display of student projects and achievements that were considered exceptional, attended by most of the higher-ups of the District and much of the public as well, but it was nothing _that _prestigious. She would have been stunned, in fact, if Tezuka hadn't participated in it himself some year, taking his academic standing into account. Then again, maybe he was shocked about something completely different.

At that moment, the warning bell rang, a signal for loiterers to make their way to their classes. _Perfect, _Shibasaki thought; she could leave him hanging like this, to ponder her invitation. Shibasaki didn't ordinarily plead, or even persuade. She'd found that it wasn't required - all you had to do was make someone curious, which could be done with nothing more than a small hint, and they'd do the rest of their own volition.

"I'll leave you here, then, Tezuka," she said amiably, cutting him off smoothly. He had been on the verge of saying something, it appeared. "I'll keep an eye out for you Friday night."

She took a step away from him. "Oh," she remembered, turning around, "I'm sure you'll have finished the book by then, won't you?" She fixed him with a trademark Shibasaki smile, the flawless rooting-to-the-spot kind.

He frowned, using that mask of displeasure to hide his puzzlement. "Well, yes...and - "

She was already slipping gracefully in through the open classroom door.

* * *

Kasahara hurtled into the library like a whirlwind, skidding to a stop a few feet away from the table at which were seated Shibasaki, Doujou and his friend Komaki, a brown-haired, pleasant-faced youth. "You!" she exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Shibasaki. Although her tone was vehement, it was kept to a low volume; Kasahara wasn't a big fan of rules in general, but if there was one place she regarded with sacred respect, it was the library. It was one of the things Shibasaki liked about her. "You were walking in the hall with a guy - I saw you! So much for that bull about 'keeping your options open', blah blah blah!"

"Oh, that?" Shibasaki affected nonchalance. "That was Tezuka."

"Tezuka?" Kasahara, not known for being a particularly acute observer of her environment and the people within it, had obviously never heard of him. "So you're dating this Tezuka person?" She flopped down in the seat opposite Shibasaki's, leaning forward aggressively so that they were practically nose-to-nose.

Shibasaki rolled her eyes, not at the idea itself but at the way Kasahara jumped to conclusions at the speed of sound. "I'm just acquainting myself with him, Kasahara."

"Is this Tezuka Hikaru we're talking about?" Doujou broke in, ignored up to that point due to Kasahara's single-minded focus. "The smart one?"

"You know him?" Kasahara demanded, momentarily sidetracked. "What's he like?"

"...Smart," Doujou replied dryly, giving her a quizzical look. "I only know him in passing. But his father is the District superintendent."

"Mm, is he?" Shibasaki murmured, to all appearances deeply immersed in her novel. But inside, the wheels of her mind were spinning rapidly. His father, the District superintendent? That explained his reaction to her mention of the District Exhibition; his father would probably be overseeing the proceedings. She allowed herself a small smile - that meant that Tezuka would almost certainly be present.

Komaki, having listened idly to the exchange, chuckled out of nowhere. Shibasaki glanced at him from the corner of her eye; Komaki Mikihisa was a bit of a mystery to her, although she disliked admitting it, but he was clearly more perceptive than either Doujou or Kasahara. It was entirely possible that he'd seen through her blasé act. She was getting careless, letting her guard down, accustomed to spending time with people who didn't catch all that many slips, such as the aforementioned denial duo. Tezuka was a different matter altogether; although she knew his observational skills were topnotch, she found it curiously unchallenging to be genuinely at ease with him. Then again, she already considered Tezuka to be in a league of his own.

"Smart, and probably rich," Kasahara was musing. "You're pretty crafty, Shibasaki. He's tall, too..." she added thoughtfully. Doujou looked vaguely annoyed.

Shibasaki rose to put away her book, and turned back from the shelf to see Komaki with his chin propped on his elbow, watching her with that amiable air of his. "Tezuka Hikaru," he commented lightly, voice carrying the barest hint of questioning.

"Yes, what about him?" In spite of herself, Shibasaki wanted to hear his thoughts.

He inclined his head and smiled appreciatively, eyes nearly closing. "Good choice."

* * *

Shibasaki strode out of the ladies' restroom, where she had spent the last few minutes, not out of any nervousness but rather for purposes of primping. She had taken extra care with her appearance tonight, going so far as to straighten her hair, which usually didn't need straightening unless she was trying for an exceptionally glossy, perfect look, don a modest but figure-flattering indigo blue dress with a stylish black belt wrapped around her trim waist and accentuate her make-up more than usual. She wasn't vain, but she knew the importance of first impressions, particularly auditorium-wide ones.

For a moment she didn't recognize him; she wasn't used to seeing him from the back. His imposing black suit made him look even taller than usual and somehow more...manly, for lack of a better word. He didn't have especially broad shoulders, but he had a solid, strong build. A stiff one, too, evident even from behind.

She hastened her pace and sidestepped casually into his path, twirling to face him. "Tezuka, good evening." She clasped her hands demurely over her stomach, but her smile, impish and amused even in its ladylike delicacy, would only have appeared demure to an exceptionally unenlightened observer. "My, don't you look refined tonight."

"I could say the same to you," he returned with detached courtesy after an initial surprised pause. His eyes went up and down her once but never lingered a moment too long. Shibasaki approved, but she was also mildly, and bizarrely, disappointed. _I must be getting spoiled, _she thought a trifle ruefully. She was accustomed to more admiration in young men.

"You're prepared for your speech?" Tezuka inquired offhandedly, in an attempt to make conversation.

"Of course," Shibasaki confirmed in a voice that implied, _Do you even have to ask? _Both of their standards were too high for such questions. Tezuka seemed to understand this too, as he nodded shortly, his gaze softening as it was wont to when he came to some favourable realization. Shibasaki noticed that his eyes were not as dark as she had previously thought - they were a few shades lighter than his hair, closer to chocolate than taupe.

He cleared his throat quietly with a little huff-cough. "I'm looking forward to hearing it," he said formally. She wondered why he seemed to be so uncomfortable expressing an honest feeling that could double as a compliment. He didn't have any trouble with ordinary truthfulness, just those statements that had additional meanings attached. Maybe the great Tezuka Hikaru was just the teeniest bit shy. The suggestion gave her an insane urge to giggle which she fortunately managed to repress, although her expression must have suffered some interesting changes in the effort, judging from Tezuka's raised eyebrows.

Schooling her features, Shibasaki reached out and gave Tezuka's suit lapels a few gentle tugs, adjusting them to closer symmetry and brushing them off daintily. "There you are," she said benignly in response to Tezuka's startled jolt. "After all, a District superintendent's son has to look his best."

He gave another jolt. "How did you find out?"

"A friend told me," she replied, inwardly satisfied. Tezuka was immensely fun to surprise. "Doujou Atsushi. Maybe you know him?"

Tezuka obviously recognized the name, but he shook his head brusquely. "Not well. He's a friend of yours?" Watching closely, Shibasaki thought she might have spotted a glimmer of respect in Tezuka's eyes. If Tezuka thought highly of Doujou, that was a positive sign; maybe she could try integrating him into her little group sometime.

"Well, perhaps more of a 'friend of a friend'," Shibasaki remarked thoughtfully, thinking of Kasahara, "but we have a fairly good relationship."

Tezuka, who seemed to be similar to her in that once his curiosity was alight he found it difficult to let go of, and he was on the verge of asking another question when an announcement blared metallically through the hallway. "_All speakers for the evening please assemble backstage immediately. Thank you, and please have a good night." _

"That would seem to be my cue," Shibasaki commented easily, anxiety not at all awakened. Memorizing and presenting a speech was no great hurdle for her, and any time she might have had to feel jittery had been taken up by Tezuka. She smiled at him and said, "I'll be seeing you around, then. And I'll discuss the book with you after the presentations have finished."

For a split second he looked slightly confused, but then he recalled, "Ah, the book."

"There's only one book between us at the moment, Tezuka," Shibasaki reminded him lightly, amused. Her shoulder brushed his sleeve as she walked by.

To her astonishment, he caught her wrist in his, halting her. She stared up at him, not sure what to expect but sure that it was something serious (this was _Tezuka, _after all), but all he said was a simple, "Good luck, Shibasaki."

She nodded breezily, still startled but much warmed by his clear, companionable message. "Ah, thank you." His face wasn't any more expressive than usual, but she saw a kind of serious, sincere earnestness in him that she found extremely likable.

She replayed his voice in her mind - "Good luck, Shibasaki", in that even, direct manner, distinctly Tezuka. Good luck; she didn't need it, but the sensation of having his goodwill travel with her was very agreeable indeed.

* * *

A/N: I hope it was clear enough that the last part took place at the aforementioned District Exhibition. And I hope I don't make Tezuka seem too slow or dull-witted, since he's supposed to be a fairly intelligent guy. I'm just trying to show how Shibasaki throws him off balance, but I might be overdoing it. Opinions?

Next up, a bit more DoujouxKasahara if I can fit it in, and the appearance of a new character, yet another Tezuka (I'm sure you can guess who that is). Oh, the drama.

Thanks, people! I really appreciate the feedback so far.


	3. Chapter 3: Second Impressions

Here's Chapter 3, featuring glimpses of nice!Shibasaki ("Hmm? I'm always nice, aren't I?" she says to that), and obviously, softening!Tezuka. Not as much DoujouxKasahara as I would have liked, but they had to clear the stage for the _slightly _less obtuse couple. Anyway, enjoy, and hopefully I'll be able to get another update in before I leave for vacation.

Disclaimer: I think I'll stop saying this every chapter from now on ('cause third time's the charm, right?), but all right all right, I don't own Toshokan Sensou/Library War.

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Second Impressions**

"Thank you all very much for your attention tonight." Shibasaki dipped her head respectfully as she brought her speech to a close and turned to walk off the stage. It had gone smoothly, without a hitch of course; and she'd been able to pick out Tezuka, Doujou and Kasahara in the mulling crowds from her vantage point. She made a beeline for the latter two as the next presentation began, deciding that she could let Tezuka come to her for once.

"Nice speech," Doujou complimented her quietly as she joined them to stand against the backdrop of one of many poster projects set up along the walls. She nodded in thanks.

"Uh, yeah, it was good," Kasahara added hastily, forgetting to lower her voice and earning herself disapproving looks from the surrounding audience. Shibasaki stifled a smile. Clearly, and entirely characteristically, Kasahara had tuned out after the first fifteen seconds or so. By now Shibasaki would have thought there was something wrong with her discourse if Kasahara _had _listened.

Kasahara and Doujou, both here purely for viewing purposes, were dressed plainly but semi-formally, Kasahara in a white button-up blouse and brown corduroys, Doujou with black pants and a tie. On the other hand, Komaki, a few feet away in a group of grown-ups, was in full tux. He spotted her and lifted a hand in a wave, winking rather impudently at her. Shibasaki smiled tranquilly in return, reflecting that here was another person with a talent for unpredictability.

A short while later, the presentations portion of the evening had come to an end, and people were moving about once again, communicating in murmurs and perusing the displays. Shibasaki and her following remained more or less where they were, occupied with friendly discussion.

"This poster needs some _colour _or something," Kasahara commented, resting her elbows on the desk and leaning in towards the placard exhibited on top of it. Privately Shibasaki agreed; it did have a somewhat drab appearance, full of typed text and grey titles in block letters, with few pictures to lighten the impact. "I mean, who could ever stand to read this thing?" Kasahara continued, frowning.

"Someone with an attention span of over five seconds, maybe," Doujou replied tartly, earning himself an irate scowl from her. He examined it too. "The information is very detailed, at any rate."

"I don't see how it matters if nobody can be bothered to read it," she retorted, but her attention had already been swayed from the poster to Doujou, and she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him. _That was probably his original intention, _Shibasaki thought with satisfaction. _Subconscious perhaps, but there. _

Shibasaki's keen eyes glimpsed the name at the bottom of the aforementioned poster at the same time as she felt a familiar presence behind her. "Tezuka," she spoke aloud, addressing both observations.

Kasahara pounced before he could respond. "Oh, _you're _Tezuka?" she blurted, and for a moment looked disappointed in a rather offensive way. She cocked her head, appraising him, then blurted as if it were his only saving grace, "Well, you're even taller up close."

Shibasaki turned sideways so that she could get a look at Tezuka's face, and was amply rewarded by what she saw there. He was maintaining his diplomatic front, but his eyebrows were thinner than usual, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. She met his gaze innocently but without a trace of apology, and he gave her the closest thing to a glare she'd ever seen him show. It pleased her that she was wearing him down.

"Yes, I'm Tezuka Hikaru," he admitted at length, stepping forward and offering Kasahara his hand, which she shook evenly.

"I'm Kasahara Iku," Kasahara introduced herself, completely unaware that she'd been openly insulting his work a few moments ago. "Shibasaki's friend," she added unnecessarily. Tezuka, in the process of controlling himself after her careless remarks and forwardness, looked startled at her unexpected height, less than his but still abnormal for a girl. Another thing that Shibasaki had always liked about Kasahara was her first impression-making ability: she imprinted herself in the minds of everyone who met her in a nearly unforgettable manner, and usually unintentionally at that. She lost points for lack of finesse, of course, but Shibasaki had a kind of admiration for her pure, natural state of being.

"Tezuka," Doujou greeted him, gruffly but without hostility. Tezuka nodded at him and they shook hands briefly, seeming to know each other by sight and reputation if not in person.

Doujou's eyes slid to the poster, and he was the second to catch the name there. Shibasaki smiled mischievously at him in his comprehension, amusement showing through, and he shot Kasahara a quick, alarmed glance, recalling her insolence. Coming to the probably wise decision to bow out before she could make any more inadvertent social faux pas, he grabbed her arm and muttered, "Let's go look around some more." He forcibly dragged her away, accompanied by her bewildered protests of, "Oi, let go! What are you doing?"

"I'll see you later, Kasahara, Doujou," Shibasaki called lightly after them. She dared to dart another glance at Tezuka, and looking at his furled brow she couldn't hold back a peal of hushed laughter, covering her mouth with her hand.

Tezuka looked mildly dismayed at her mirth, and gave his poster a once-over, asking dolefully, "Is it that bad?"

"Not at all," she assured him, feeling an unexpected flash of guilt at his expression. She knew he always did his best, and it somehow felt mean to discredit his hard work. "It seems to be very high quality research. But I will say that a bit of brightness would make it more...accessible to the average onlooker, who is probably closer to Kasahara than to you or me in level of educational interest."

He was still looking at his poster in consternation, and she sidled closer to him, trailing her fingers on the edge of the desk. "I take it you finished it?" she asked, trying to distract him.

"Yes," he answered immediately, needing no reminder this time, and he swivelled to face her in readiness for conversation. Content to have claimed his full attention, she took advantage of it, straightening her posture and letting a smile play around her glossy lips. "So, what did you think?"

"The ending was hardly any less bleak than the rest of it," he stated with a Thinking Frown. Shibasaki had taken to labelling his frowns, as he had so many of them - there was the one that indicated real displeasure, which she had actually seen only very rarely, the disbelieving one, the puzzled one, the mildly irritated one (and the one that was a mix of the latter both), and then this one, which told her that he was in deep consideration. It was often present on his face; he was definitely an overthinker.

"Well, the fact that it's the ending already makes it a bit less bleak, doesn't it? Because an ending indicates space for a new beginning," Shibasaki pointed out in that sensible tone that suggested that she thought her opinion was more or less fact.

His concentrated eyes flickered in surprise, and he admitted, "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"That's only to be expected," Shibasaki said teasingly, "as you aren't me. If I believed that you thought the same way as I do, I wouldn't be talking to you. You'd be too dull."

"So you don't think I'm dull the way I am now?" Tezuka asked. The question sounded insecure, but his voice and his manner simply contained curiosity, and perhaps a bit of surprise.

"The way you _think _certainly isn't dull," she specified with emphasis. "As for the way you _are, _well, I'd like to know a little more about that before giving my final verdict." She met his gaze squarely to show that she was serious about that statement, then let the gravity dissolve into an easy smile. Whenever she was around Tezuka she found herself smiling more often; maybe it was the infrequency of him doing it himself that inflamed a kind of contrary desire in her.

He seemed a bit embarrassed, perhaps, or maybe just taken aback, but there was a pregnant pause before he returned to the topic of _Fahrenheit 451. _"...I...I wouldn't call the book a favourite of mine, but I think I might read it again someday."

"So will I," she agreed, a little sigh unfurling in her chest for no particular reason - maybe because there was something just so natural and fluid about this conversation, like they'd had it already many times in the past and they'd have it many times again in the future, and it would never get old. "And when you do, we'll have to discuss it again and you'll have to tell me about your second impressions."

For a moment, a nice moment, he just looked at her, with those fixing-in-place, unfathomable yet expressive brown eyes. Then he nodded, his frown relaxing. "I'll do that."

_Because, whatever people may think, second impressions matter too, _Shibasaki reflected, accepting his promise. But she felt that that was one way in which their schools of thought were alike, so she didn't say it aloud.

"Your speech was well done," he said suddenly. "Well...spoken." He glanced away, and she smiled while he couldn't see it, laughing at him just a little for that awkwardness that he exhibited whenever open praise was in question. But he was nonetheless sincere, and she thanked him in kind.

"It was -" he started, on the verge of saying something more, when he broke off abruptly and stared past her. His face hardened so quickly and drastically that Shibasaki was briefly, ludicrously, actually _frightened,_ and she spun around a bit too fast to allow proper grace, stepping back and almost bumping into Tezuka. This danger was avoided by his weaving around her to stand at her side, a few paces ahead.

"Oh, Professor," Shibasaki said, disguising her relief and internally ridiculing herself. Since when was _she, _Shibasaki Asako, _jumpy_?

_Since Tezuka started making faces like _that, a tiny voice inside her spoke up darkly. But she ignored it; it didn't make sense to be afraid when it was just their English teacher standing there, looking just as polished as Tezuka in a grey suit and his usual round glasses. "Good evening," she greeted him more politely. She wondered why Tezuka didn't do the same; he remained silent, even tight-lipped, she noticed as she glanced sideways.

"Miss Shibasaki," the professor responded pleasantly. He was young for a teacher, even considered quite the heartthrob by some of the more eccentric female students, and always had a friendly attitude, although Shibasaki sometimes got the feeling that there was more to his personality than what he revealed to his class. "Excellent performance tonight. You're a very talented pupil."

She bowed her head, pretending to be demurely acknowledging his compliment while really darting a look at Tezuka, whose wariness had heightened to near outright hostility in the past few seconds. It was not something she often experienced or enjoyed experiencing, but at the moment, Shibasaki was thoroughly confused.

The professor's slight smile widened as he turned to Tezuka. "Hikaru," he said, startling Shibasaki - he usually referred to students by their last names. "Your project seems to be first-rate as well. As always." Shibasaki didn't think she was entirely imagining the light touch of mocking in his cultured voice, but she couldn't figure out the motives behind it.

"Not quite," Tezuka answered, and his tone held a kind of terse strain that Shibasaki had never heard before, not just vocal but deeper, from his very core. His gaze - no, his whole expression - was steely. "A number of people had complaints. Not enough colour."

"Well, they may have had a point there," the teacher mused, barely glancing at the poster itself. Shibasaki almost flinched - she prized honesty, but was it really appropriate for a teacher to be so harsh, especially going so far as to criticize Tezuka right in front of her? "But, it was a good effort, wasn't it?"

Shibasaki was stirred almost to anger on Tezuka's behalf. This was downright..._belittling. _And Tezuka made no effort to refute the demeaning comments, although he seemed tensed to breaking point.

She was thinking about how best to intervene when the professor seemed to notice her bewilderment and new coolness towards him. "Please pardon us, Miss Shibasaki," he said, perfectly courteous once again. "I wasn't aware that you didn't know. Hikaru is my younger brother."

Her eyebrows soared up to her forehead, and she had to make a real effort to keep her jaw from dropping. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. Brothers? They were _brothers? _ Biological brothers?

"Why would she know?" Tezuka demanded, nearly aggressively. "Hardly anyone knows."

"Oh yes - you don't exactly publicize it, do you, Hikaru?" There was that mocking edge again, accompanied by a soft, taunting chuckle. "I suppose that's understandable."

Now that she looked clearly, from an insider's angle, it was believable. First of all there was the matter of the name - Tezuka Hikaru, Professor Tezuka Satoshi. Usually the "Tezuka" was left off of Professor, probably one reason why she hadn't connected the two. Add to that Tezuka's unusually unwilling behaviour in English class, obviously due to some sort of tension between the siblings, and the evidence was undeniable. Not to mention that there did seem to be a bit of familial resemblance in the narrow eyes, the small nose with the elongated bridge, the thin mouth, and that unique widow's peak part of the hair.

"You seem surprised," Professor Tezuka said, smiling at Shibasaki. "Is it so hard to swallow?" She felt, somehow, that he was including her in his little game at Tezuka's expense, and she didn't want to play along at all. But she could hardly refuse to speak.

"That's not it," she contradicted mildly. "I was just surprised at myself, actually, for not realizing it earlier."

"Oh? So it's fairly apparent, then?" He seemed genuinely curious, but Shibasaki was starting to think that there were very few things about this man that were truly genuine.

"That's not it either," she replied evenly. "But I suppose it's visible to the exceptional observer, which I was previously under the impression that I was." She smiled with good humour, trying to direct a bit of the teacher's scorn toward herself rather than Tezuka.

The professor didn't look as if he'd mind going with the flow of the discussion, but Tezuka was having none of it. "Your observational skills aren't lacking in the least," he said to her quite unexpectedly, words rough but honest, then he bid his brother a curt, "Excuse us."

In the latest of many uncharacteristic things she'd seen him do within the last five minutes, Tezuka put a hand on the small of her back and drew her alongside him as he turned away. She could feel the wide spread of his fingers through the fabric of her dress, not an invasive or pushy touch, but a nudge, a request to go with him, which she adhered to without resistance. She wasn't sorry to leave the elder Tezuka behind, but she wanted to look over her shoulder to check his expression. She didn't, however, knowing that Tezuka wouldn't like it.

He didn't release her until they were safely situated in the less crowded hallway that housed the restrooms and storage chambers. Then he stepped away, looking straight ahead still with that bitterly hard expression. "I'm sorry," he said, deadpan, lips thinner than usual.

"There's no need for that," she chided him glibly. "I learned something new; you shouldn't apologize for it."

"Something new about me," he said heavily, as if he wished she hadn't.

She didn't want him to wish that. "Yes, in fact. I learned that you have an older brother who also happens to be your English teacher, and with whom your relations are somewhat difficult." She paused. "So what?"

The Disbelieving Frown appeared, erasing a bit of the ire. "...'So what?'" he repeated.

"Exactly," she confirmed, choosing her words carefully but letting them fall freely. "It isn't such a big deal, Tezuka. Siblings are quite common, you know. I myself have often wished for some. Hazarding a guess, I'm sure problems among siblings are quite common as well. They're nothing for you to apologize for, or for me to get excited about. Although I am, of course, curious." She shrugged, an unladylike move, but permissible under the circumstances. Then she smiled up at him as he looked down at her, seeming a bit frustrated and still a bit angry, but maybe just a bit amused under all that.

"Shibasaki. Are you ever _not _curious?" he asked finally.

She pretended to think about it. "Hmm...rarely."

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, the first wholly informal, laid-back gesture she'd seen him make all night. It relaxed her somehow, although she hadn't been aware that she was tense. She didn't like to see him so drawn, so self-stilted. "I don't know why I even bothered to ask," he commented, voice so low it was practically a mutter. But she heard it and it pleased her, and she reflected that he wasn't nearly so awkward about paying compliments when he didn't realize he was doing it.

"It was...funny, though," he continued, looking at her with one eyebrow raised, "I've never seen you so surprised before. You always seem to anticipate everything that happens."

"I suppose I _was _surprised," she admitted, and it didn't even really pain her to do so. "It wasn't something that I was anticipating, that's for sure."

"Well, at least if you didn't notice, it probably means that no one else has either," he said, more to himself than to her.

"Why, thank you, Tezuka," she replied serenely, and he started slightly, not having intended to praise her observational faculties with that last sentence. But he didn't try to retract or change the statement, letting his opinion of her stand. Instead he sucked in his lip a little, giving him a bizarrely and endearingly childlike look, but his bearing was serious as he returned quietly, "Thank you, too."

She wouldn't make him stumble through an unnecessary explanation by asking for what, so she simply patted his upper arm in as soothing and motherly a way as she could manage. He wasn't precisely the type to be comforted, but he was the type who needed to be comforted more often, she felt.

"Pardon the interruption," a recognizably smooth (Shibasaki now designated it as "oily" in her mind) voice cut in. They both turned automatically to see the rather unwelcome apparition of Tezuka the Elder framed in the hallway entrance, a smirking smile lurking around his lips. "Hikaru, some reporters want photographs, and they're asking for the District superintendent and his family. I've been sent to fetch you."

Tezuka looked annoyed but resigned. It was probably something he had to put up with every year. "Yes, I'll come."

"Why don't you join us, Miss Shibasaki?" Professor Tezuka inquired amicably. "You were a participant in the exhibition, and you would make a lovely addition to any picture."

He was laying it on a bit thick, but she wasn't fooled or even fazed. "Thank you, Professor, but I really couldn't," she declined politely, hanging back. "It's a family photo."

"They're not so strict about it as all that," he persisted smilingly, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "But if you're sure..."

"She doesn't have to be in it if she doesn't want to," Tezuka spoke up, stiffening all over again. His brow was furrowed in a definite glare. He seemed about a couple of seconds away from saying, _Leave her alone. _

Shibasaki wasn't quite so eager for data that she wanted to witness a brotherly confrontation right here, so she quickly headed off the collision of tensions by revising her decision. "If it's really all right, I wouldn't mind being in the photograph," she said, keeping her tone tranquil and pleasant. "Would that be fine, Tezuka?"

"...Yes," he said grudgingly. He didn't seem to particularly want her in it, but he was rather caught up in rebelling against his brother and Shibasaki was willing to ignore his wishes to keep him from doing or saying something he might regret later.

Tezuka Satoshi smiled, triumphant, and led the way to the small congregation of journalists and photographers in front of the stage, where Shibasaki greeted the father of the two Tezukas, the District superintendent, and his wife. Despite a penchant for formality, he seemed to be an agreeable mix of his sons, having both their manners and down-to-Earth attitudes but none of his eldest's superciliousness or his youngest's occasional awkwardness, and she just seemed nice, with a touch of refinement that Shibasaki noted and admired. When all four of them were together, the resemblance was even more pronounced. She felt a bit out of place among them, but they were hustled into a pose before she could say anything or try to excuse herself, so she smoothed out some crinkles in her dress, patted down her hair and took her position at the edge of the picture, tucked into Tezuka's side.

She arranged her own features to perfection, then whispered placidly to Tezuka while gently nudging him with her elbow, "Smile."

The shoulder that she was pressed against was hard, his posture rigid, but when the flash burst blindingly into their faces, he _was_ smiling, even if only she could tell.

* * *

A/N: The "Professor" probably sounds strange, but I thought "Mr. Tezuka" sounded infinitely worse, not to mention it would give away his name too early, so...um...let's just pretend I'm British...? They're the ones who use "professor", right?

I noticed that Shibasaki and Tezuka use vocabulary that no normal high school sophomore ever would ("with whom your relations are somewhat difficult"? Unnatural much?) but I can't help it; dumbing them down just makes the dialogue feel out-of-character. They do seem like rather precocious people. Still, if it bothers anyone, let me know and I'll make more of an effort to change it.

To prevent confusion and for future reference, remember that Hikaru is Tezuka the younger, the one we know and love, and Satoshi is his older English teacher (and mwahaha EVIL) brother. Anyone else think he could make a good matchmaker, even if he only does it to annoy his little bro?

Once again, I have no idea what Komaki is even doing there. But oh well. He's just being his idly mysterious self.

Thanks for all your support, and may your love for Toshokan Sensou remain strong.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4: Same Direction

Sorry for the long wait - I wanted to post this before I left for vacation but then I didn't, and then I planned to write more during vacation but I also didn't, and long story short I've been a bit lazy. I think this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones, too, which makes me feel doubly bad. But I felt that this was the only good cutoff point there would be in the story for a while, and I also wanted to update because I felt guilty, and while guilt is an effective motivator for some authors, I find that it just sucks all the fun out of writing for me. So hopefully this can assuage my conscience for a little while at least.

There's a brief switch to Tezuka's POV in the latter part of this chapter, since I couldn't think of any other way to show that section of the story. This will probably occur again. After all, he's entitled to some of his own screen time - and besides that, it's just that my inconsistency with POVs is something you can depend on by now. :P

Disclaimer: Don't own Toshokan Sensou.

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Same Direction  
**

Shibasaki arrived at her locker the next Monday morning to find a piece of paper sticking out of the crack on her locker door. Or rather, a semi-thick wad of pieces of paper, also known as a newspaper. She had a few glimmerings of why it might be there, but she wasted no time in sliding it out and opening it - it had been folded over at the front page of the Community section, at the centre of which a fairly large photograph could be seen. She herself was smiling pleasantly out of it, along with the four Tezukas from Friday night. There was also a plain yellow Post-It note stuck on top of the picture's caption. The neat writing on it was familiar to Shibasaki, the result of a week of slyly peeking over at her neighbour in English class, and it read:

_My parents bought an extra copy for you. You made a good impression. _

_- Tezuka _

Short and to the point, very Tezuka. Shibasaki smiled, her first thought being that it was just like him to stick a Post-It note on rather than simply write on the newspaper itself. She wondered for a second why he hadn't waited until English class to give it to her, when they'd see each other anyway, then remembered Tezuka Satoshi. Ah yes, the brother affair. She could understand why he wouldn't want to give his older sibling another chance to smirk.

"Huh, what's that? You read the paper, Shibasaki?" It was Kasahara, arriving in the hallway, panting. An enthusiastic member of the track and field team, Kasahara ran to school whether or not she was late (although more often than not, she was). Shibasaki generally judged how much time she had left before she needed to get to class by Kasahara's minute of appearance. Reminded, she swiftly began to pack her books into her bag.

"Good morning. Actually, I do read the newspaper," Shibasaki replied easily, surreptitiously slipping the photograph and accompanying note out of sight. She had only really answered the second question, but Kasahara wasn't one to notice nuances, a handy oversight.

"Good morning," Kasahara returned, then proceeded to ungraciously grumble curses under her breath as her lock combination refused to work. With a sigh and an indulgent smile, Shibasaki reached over and did it for her with three quick, smooth spins of her wrist. It opened with a clean click, leaving Kasahara to glower at it and mutter about when did Shibasaki learn her combination anyway, and how on Earth did she always _do _that?

In all honesty there was nothing to it, but the more you tried to tell that to someone like Kasahara the more she fumbled over it, so Shibasaki merely moved on to the last part of her pre-homeroom routine, examining herself in the mirror that was tacked on to the inside of her locker door. She had her contact lenses between her fingertips, ready to insert them, when she paused, reconsidered and reached into her bag for her glasses case instead. Snapping it open, she slid the spectacles behind her ears and over the bridge of her nose.

Everything came into slightly clearer focus in the mirror's surface, and she critically analyzed the long oval shape of the lenses, the dark blue rims, her own brown eyes staring back at her behind them. Then she tossed her head, patted the loose knot of her bun and ran her fingers through the long bangs that hung down strategically on either side of her face, and smiled.

"Let's go, Kasahara." She leaned down, collecting her books, and her elbow brushed a crinkling corner of the newspaper that jutted out of her bag. So far, the day was off to a good start.

* * *

She walked into her English classroom to see the two Tezukas studiously ignoring one another. Or rather, trying to _look _as if they were studiously ignoring one another; Tezuka was setting his pencils carefully down his desk, staring firmly down at them, but he kept darting covert glances at his older brother out of the corner of his eye. The Professor was doing a slightly better job of concealment, shuffling papers on his desk in an academic manner but well aware of his sibling's watchfulness, as shown by the tiny, hooded smirk that crept onto his face every time Tezuka looked at him.

Shibasaki slowed her pace purposefully, ambling gracefully behind Tezuka's chair and leaning in over his head, saying quietly, "Thank you for the paper."

His eyes stopped seeking out Satoshi and instead focused on her. He even angled his body a little towards her for more open communication, something which she couldn't recall ever having seen him do before while in class. She glanced back briefly at their teacher, who was subtly paying attention to them; she was sure Tezuka made himself easier for his brother to read than he ever imagined.

"You should thank my parents," Tezuka replied, seeming mildly uncomfortable - embarrassed, probably. "My mother insisted that I give you a copy."

"_My _mother insisted on buying one," Shibasaki said with a smile, commenting with a touch of dryness, "so it looks like I get double the satisfaction."

"You didn't have to be in the photograph, you know," he reminded her with a somewhat Irritated Frown.

"Oh, I wasn't being sarcastic," she assured him. Then she reconsidered and changed that to, "Well, not really, anyway. I honestly don't mind being in it. People tell me I'm very photogenic."

He gave her a slanted, jaded look, obviously suspecting her of fishing for a compliment. Which wasn't entirely an untruth, she had to admit, but as was her way, she was more amused than ashamed.

"Um, Shibasaki?"

A voice that definitely wasn't Tezuka's - that much was obvious from its higher-pitched timbre, slight huskiness and undercurrent of uncertainty - cut into their companionable silence. Shibasaki turned to see a young man standing in front of her desk, arms wrapped around his books just a bit too tightly - he was nervous. She recognized him as Asahina Hikaru, a recurring figure in many of her classes, a broad-shouldered but not overly tall boy with ginger-brown spiky hair.

She smiled at him, and although he smiled tentatively back, he didn't seem too reassured. Possibly because of Tezuka, who was watching him intently in that serious, frowning way of his. "Yes?"

"I...I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having a drink with me after school today?" he said, up-talking, eyes flickering to her anxiously.

Surprised, she blinked once, paused for a moment to think it over, and then accepted casually, "I wouldn't mind." Shibasaki's policy with boys was generally a carefree one, her perspective on dating them being _why not? _ She liked trying new things and was always interested in finding out if someone could impress her, and even if they didn't, she usually had a passably good time all the same. Besides, she had plenty of experience with letting guys down gently, and was confident in her own ability to reject people without leaving a mess behind.

He relaxed a little, tugging at the bottom of his sweater. His obvious relief struck her as mildly funny; did she have a reputation as a man-eater? However, then Asahina continued with more heartiness, "Great. I'll wait for you on the front steps, then." He shifted on his feet for a moment, as if pondering whether he should say something else, but when she nodded good-humouredly to him, he merely excused himself and proceeded to his seat.

Shibasaki followed his progress with her eyes, and glanced back to see Tezuka doing the same. She willingly returned her attention to him, but the interruption seemed to have stiffened his tongue, and his brief contributions to rest of the conversation felt forced. It irked her more than she would have expected, and she smouldered in contemplation for the duration of English class, trying to figure him out.

_If it were Kasahara in my place and Doujou in his, the apparent explanation would be jealousy, _she thought. Over the years she had become accustomed to using her two friends as reference points for relationships, because theirs was so utterly transparent and unsubtle that it was easy to compare to. But it didn't help her much here. It was what drew her to Tezuka in her curiosity and also what frustrated her about him - when she was in her place and he in his, she still wasn't absolutely sure where they stood.

She sighed quietly, resting her chin on her palm, and Tezuka immediately looked over at her, alert. He scrutinized her for a few seconds, brow furrowed, but when she tilted her head in his direction and gave him a small smile, it smoothed out and he went back to his work. The tiny exchange calmed her for some reason.

_Oh, well, _she thought, dismissing the problem for the time being in favour of the sheet of questions in front of her. She'd always enjoyed a challenge, anyway.

* * *

Tezuka, the sort of person who always had a destination and a concrete route for getting there, strode down the hallway at his customary brisk pace, slowing only in front of the library as he debated whether to go in or not. He'd been coming regularly recently, a lot more often than usual, actually. It had gotten to the point where he had some difficulty in finding a worthwhile book without Shibasaki there to advise him. Not that he'd seriously tried to pick out a book on his own in a while; she seemed to know just when he needed something to read and what he was in the mood for, and he had never made a move to put a stop to her voluntary assistance.

But she wouldn't be in the library today, he remembered, thinking back to English class earlier. It rankled at him that he shared a first name with that guy who'd asked her out, although he'd never taken much notice of it before. Asahina Hikaru, Tezuka Hikaru. And hadn't she said yes a bit too, well, nonchalantly? From what he could discern of her, which he had to admit wasn't always a great deal, she didn't seem to have any particular liking for Asahina. So why accept just like that? It made him question how often she received offers from guys, to take them so naturally and lightly. But that line of thought was starting to make him feel rather uncomfortable.

He had come to a full stop in front of the library doors when they suddenly swung open and a body barrelled into him without warning. "Whoa! Oops, sorry!"

A female voice - and a vaguely familiar one at that. He stumbled backward, losing his balance slightly, but automatically reached out to steady whoever had run into him, a gentlemanlike reflex. When he'd regained his firm footing, he saw that he was holding none other than Kasahara Iku by one elbow, whereas Doujou Atsushi, apparently having had the same idea about steadying her, gripped the other one. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it struck him that he should let go fast, and he did, stepping away stiffly.

Kasahara laughed embarrassedly and rubbed the back of her head, ruffling her already messy hair. "Sorry, I was kinda in a hurry." Then she took a closer look at him and exclaimed in too-loud wonderment, "Hey! It's _you!..._uh...that is...you're..._Tezuka_, right?"

He had gleaned enough about her character by now not to be _too_ offended by the fact that she had had to take a moment to recall his name, and he just nodded with a curt, "Yes."

"_This _is why you shouldn't just jump up and rush out without even checking what's in your path," Doujou reprimanded Kasahara sharply, not seeming to mind that Tezuka was present. He was probably used to lecturing her anytime, anywhere.

"Yeah, but we have to hurry or we won't be able to follow Shibasaki! We don't know where she's going with what's-his-name!" Kasahara protested, and the fact that she could remember _his _name but not Asahina's immediately made a somewhat irrational positive impression on Tezuka. But wait - what had she said, exactly?

Doujou looked exasperated. "Who's _we? _I don't see any need to trail two people on a date. For one thing it's unethical, for another it's frankly creepy."

"But aren't you _curious? _Maybe Shibasaki's actually found a guy she's interested in!" Kasahara balked at Doujou's sceptical expression. "Okay, so probably not, but still!" She suddenly turned on Tezuka, who was once again unnerved by her unusual height and had to fight the instinct to take a step back, and demanded eagerly, "What about you? Aren't _you _curious? You're the closest thing Shibasaki has ever come to really dating anybody - I mean hanging out with them repeatedly, not just once or twice." She grew thoughtful. "Maybe she's trying to make you jealous."

Doujou looked skyward as Tezuka tried to make sense of Kasahara's gravity-defying leaps of thought. Then he stated quite bluntly, "I don't think that Shibasaki would be so crude."

"Well said, Tezuka." A new voice entered the conversation - Tezuka knew him to be Komaki Mikihisa, a senior with a reputation for being perpetually in a good mood and making cryptic comments. He emerged from the library behind Doujou and Kasahara, smiling pleasantly. "I doubt that that was Shibasaki's objective. But personally, Kasahara, I'll readily admit that I_, _for one, _am_ curious."

"Komaki, don't _encourage her_!" Doujou growled. Tezuka rather agreed with that sentiment.

"There's no need get upset," Komaki said soothingly. "Following them might be somewhat objectionable, but there's no law against casually walking in the same direction as they are, is there?" He smiled reassuringly.

"It's the _same thing_!" Doujou hissed.

"That's exactly how it is!" Kasahara agreed enthusiastically with Komaki, happily ignoring Doujou. Deliberating no further, she announced, "Anyway, I'm going after her. This is too good an opportunity to pass up." She set off at a roaring pace down the hall, and Doujou hurried after her, objecting all the while.

"He's a bit like a chaperone, isn't he?" Komaki murmured contentedly to Tezuka. "A very conscientious one."

Unsure of how to respond to a remark like that, Tezuka merely gave the senior a quizzical glance. Komaki promptly stepped aside and gestured politely to the library door. "Oh, were you going in? I'm sorry."

Tezuka hesitated. "No," he said decisively after a pause, "I'm not."

"Well, then," Komaki said cheerfully, "what are we waiting for, indeed?" He proceeded leisurely down the corridor after Doujou and Kasahara. Tezuka stared for a few seconds, shaking his head as if to clear it. As his feet began to move him almost automatically forward, he thought to himself with amazed wryness, _Shibasaki's friends are crazy. _Possibly following them wasn't the most logical choice he'd made all day.

Then again, as Shibasaki was, as _he _was if he were willing to own up to it, maybe they really were simply curious. There was nothing so wrong with that, was there?

* * *

A/N: Yay, Komaki finally got to say more than one sentence, and the chapter title is even an outtake of one of his statements! I feel so proud of myself for including him like this. Then again, there's still no actual _reason _for his presence...but who really cares about that?

Now I'm getting this really weird scenario where Komaki has _fangirls..._and it actually sounds kind of plausible. But that, ladies and gentlemen, is another story.


	5. Chapter 5: 21st Century Understanding

I'm currently trying to figure out how to incorporate Tezuka's fear of heights into this story, if at all, but all my ideas put together amount to a bit less than zero. I thought it might provide good opportunity for Shibasaki-Tezuka bonding, but maybe it's not worth the trouble for this fic. I could always write a oneshot for it later.

I think (?) this chapter is the longest yet...but I could be wrong. Anyway, quality over quantity, right? Then again, that might not be an entirely good thing for me...

Disclaimer: Toshokan Sensou/Library War = not mine.

**

* * *

  
Chapter 5 - 21st Century**** Understanding  
**

She took a sip of her cappuccino, glancing demurely down to watch the brown swirl sluggishly through the transparent plastic top as it was vacuumed up into her straw. Ordinarily she would have felt it to be impolite to avoid meeting her date's eyes, but as he seemed to be exponentially more comfortable when she wasn't looking at him, she considered it a service to him.

To be perfectly honest, they hadn't even been here five minutes and Asahina was already starting to wear on her nerves. He had good manners and was capable of carrying a conversation, but as she had noticed in the classroom, he seemed nearly afraid of her, beginning to stumble over his words as soon as she looked at him and relaxing only for sporadic three-second periods, after which he would jerk back into his unease. She made a mental note not to say yes to boys who seemed _too _nervous in the future.

Deciding that she had stared at her drink long enough, she returned her gaze to his face, and he immediately started in his seat, his sentence ending with a stutter.

"Are you all right?" she inquired with concern that she wasn't ashamed to admit was feigned.

"Oh - yes. Yes, I'm fine - thank you," he replied haltingly, swallowing.

She smiled serenely. "That's good."

After a hesitant pause, he continued with his dialogue, and she generously lent him an ear as the rest of her senses searched diligently for something more interesting to occupy her time. She found nearly immediate satisfaction in detecting four familiar presences lurking in the corner of the café - unsurprisingly Kasahara, Doujou, a given if Kasahara was there, Komaki tagging along for the fun, and most intriguingly Tezuka. She quirked an eyebrow. Not long ago she would have been inclined to think him above something like date-shadowing, but apparently she'd misjudged him. Or maybe he was just susceptible to Kasahara's unique brand of charm. The thought almost elicited a chuckle from her, which didn't escape the attention of Asahina.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Not at all," she replied fluidly, which was true. Then, eyeing him mischievously, she opted to add, "I'm just glad to see that my friends seem to be enjoying themselves."

For a moment he looked bewildered, having no idea what she was talking about, but when he followed the sideways direction of her gaze, he blanched. She found this unspeakably amusing. Kasahara and company were doing an excellent job of failing spectacularly at acting like they were unaware of Shibasaki's presence - Kasahara was talking in a stage whisper to an embarrassed and annoyed-looking Doujou, and Komaki wasn't even trying to look innocent, smiling in silence with his head actually turned toward Shibasaki's table. But possibly it was Tezuka who really gave away the show, sitting ramrod-straight in evident discomfort and staring deliberately out the window opposite Shibasaki, hands on his knees, looking so out-of-place and awkward that he might as well have shouted to the world that something was up. Probably the act of spying on a private engagement disagreed with his conscience.

But then his neck slowly twisted as he stole a glance at the two objects of surveillance, and as soon as Shibasaki saw him looking at her, she smiled and, unable to resist, gave him a breezy wave. He gave a jolt and gulped - she could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat even from a distance - much as Asahina had, but it was much more entertaining on Tezuka, especially when he was forced to acknowledge her with a stiff nod.

_Well, _Shibasaki thought with playful vindictiveness, _if nothing else, it will teach him not to follow people on dates. _If only it were so easy to dissuade Kasahara, who was blissfully oblivious of the fact that the game was up.

Asahina was talking again, looking extremely disconcerted. "Did you ask them to - er, accompany you?"

The lie rolled guilelessly off her tongue, the temptation too great. "As a matter of fact I did," she replied, carefully maintaining her glib, level countenance as if she thought it nothing less than natural to invite a group of her friends along to watch her date, and avoiding letting any of her inner hilarity show through.

"Oh," he said, so overwhelmed that she did feel a bit guilty about it - but not enough to quell her discreet glee. "Oh, well - I don't suppose you'd like to join them, would you?"

Her impression of him rose slightly - he was willing to make the best of the situation, even if he was obviously deeply unsettled by the prospect. She wouldn't put him through that torture. "Oh, no, really, I'm fine here," she assured him pleasantly. "I just hope they don't disturb you."

"Of course not," Asahina replied bravely, but he didn't relax for so much as a millisecond after that. As penance for her indulgent little joke, Shibasaki paid meticulous attention to him and made her contributions as genial and inoffensive as possible, but her focus wasn't really secured until he mentioned something about a "revised booklist" for the school library.

Sensing something important behind the unclear point, she zeroed in on it at once. "Revised? In what way exactly?"

He stopped. "I think they're taking certain books off the shelves, to get rid of inappropriate content. But I don't really know much about it..." He trailed off, blinking at her sudden spike in concentration.

She quickly toned it down, affecting disinterest as she murmured, "Oh, really? I haven't heard anything about that. Is there a committee of some kind behind it?"

"Er, yes. The Media Betterment Committee, I believe it's called - my father is involved with it. There are other parents in it too, and some teachers."

"And is there a set launching time for this act of 'Media Betterment' and its revised booklist?" Shibasaki asked, still casually and conversationally.

Asahina furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled at her interest in the topic when he didn't see it as any big deal. "Well, I think it's been delayed by some school librarians who have objected. But from what I know, it shouldn't be too long before it's set in motion."

If there had ever been any doubt about whether or not Asahina Hikaru was the one for her, his nonchalance on the subject would have clinched it. As it was, Shibasaki was just waiting for this date to end so that she could get down to some serious thinking. And then, inevitably, serious action.

Recognizing that she'd most likely exhausted Asahina's limited knowledge, she moved on smoothly and resumed on autopilot, the following duration of the outing passing in an agonizingly slow blur as she ruminated on what his carelessly dropped words could mean. It sounded like a textbook example of censorship - book banning. But could something like that really be done so easily? She hoped not.

It was something of a funny coincidence that just after she'd discussed censorship with Tezuka, it came knocking at her door. Although at the moment, Shibasaki wasn't seeing much "funny" about it.

At long last she bid Asahina a cordial farewell, crossing over to her friends as soon as he was gone. Komaki edged over on the bench to make room for her, but she barely noticed in her state of distraction and made no move to sit down, snapping out of her reverie only to say teasingly, "Thank you for the interruption. It livened up my afternoon."

Kasahara's jaw dropped in dismay. "Shibasaki! You mean you _saw _us?"

"I believe she noticed at approximately the point in the conversation when Asahina did a remarkable imitation of a goldfish," Komaki interjected amiably. Shibasaki saw Tezuka shoot a dubious sideways glance at the unflappable senior, and she repressed a smile. They seemed to be getting along, at least.

"You got pretty interested in him sometime after that, though," Kasahara commented, curiosity practically steaming from her ears. "You like him?"

Shibasaki gave her a wry look. "It wasn't so much Asahina who interested me," she said slowly, "as it was his father."

"What do you mean?" Kasahara was astounded, and then appalled. "Are you into _older guys, _Shibasaki?!" She scrunched up her nose in badly-disguised horror and repulsion.

Under other circumstances Shibasaki would have found a statement like this highly comical, a typically Kasahara thing to say, but today she just shook her head in mild resignation and answered soberly, "Only when they're involved in so-called 'Media Betterment Acts'."

Kasahara looked relieved, then confused. "In so-called whats?"

"Apparently Asahina's father is part of something called the Media Betterment Committee, which proposes a revised booklist for school libraries." She met Tezuka's eyes, intent as always. "Essentially, censorship."

"They're actually going to ban some books from our library?" Doujou straightened, alert and in disbelief. "On what grounds?"

"On the authority, or pressure, of a number of parents and teachers. Or so Asahina says," Shibasaki amended. "But his information is incomplete."

"Book _banning?" _Having caught on, Kasahara stuck up her chin in indignation, hair swinging around her forehead. "That's ridiculous! I mean, this is the 21st century, right? I thought stuff like that didn't even happen anymore!"

"Unfortunately, that's a little ahead of the times," Komaki said lightly, but he was no longer smiling.

Shibasaki was mildly surprised that Tezuka hadn't provided any input at all, but she was even more surprised to see that his face had clouded over, dark eyes narrowed, teeth gritted. "Excuse me," he said abruptly, unexpected hardness in his voice, and he stood up. With just one slightly curious glance, Komaki got up without question to make space for his exit, and Shibasaki followed his example, stepping aside to allow Tezuka to brush past and leave the café.

"Uh..." Kasahara stared after him. "What's with _him_?"

Shibasaki wondered the same thing, but she had the vaguest of suspicions already, and she shifted, hearing the faint, starchy crumpling of the newspaper tucked into her bag. She had only ever seen Tezuka wear an expression like that in connection with one person.

* * *

She noted absently that it was rare for her to arrive in class before Tezuka as she took a seat in her customary English class spot, but she thought little of it until it came to her attention that there were barely thirty seconds left to go before the bell rang and he was still nowhere to be seen. Tezuka was not the sort of person who ever cut it close.

She glanced subtly at the _other _Tezuka. He was busy at the front of the classroom and seemed unconcerned about his brother's absence, but that didn't mean much, did it? She toyed with the idea that Tezuka might be sick, but he'd been fine yesterday, if she discounted that last incident. But if her hunch was right, that had had nothing to do with anything physical.

Spurred on by the reminder that her hunches were usually right, Shibasaki stood, gathered her books together, and walked wordlessly out of the room. She didn't dare risk a look at the professor, but she was almost certain that he had been eyeing her as she left. The bell rang out shrilly just as she stepped across the threshold into the hallway, and she encountered a few stragglers who were rushing to get inside before they were punished for tardiness. Her bizarrely timed exit earned her a few strange looks, but her reputation as a first-class student preceded her and kept anyone from remarking on it.

Once at a safe distance from the classroom, she paused, tapping her fingertips on the zipper of her bag thoughtfully. If Tezuka wasn't in class, where would he be? She couldn't see him leaving the school and going to the mall or any other adolescent hangout - that idea was more than a little ludicrous, taking into consideration that this was _Tezuka. _So if he hadn't left the school, what options did that open up for him?

She couldn't be sure, but she knew there was only one location that _she _would be at if it was her in his place, and so she didn't hesitate a moment longer before turning briskly in the direction of the library.

She let herself in by the glass doors cautiously, quietly, but was unsurprised to be discovered all the same as the librarian looked up from her desk work inquiringly.

"Is it all right if I do a bit of research here this period? I have Professor Tezuka's permission, of course," Shibasaki lied with a friendly smile, banking on her good relationship with the librarian to waive the need for verification.

It worked without a hitch, and she received an amiable, "Oh, certainly, dear," in response. Really, she thought with satisfaction bordering on awe, a spotless reputation was an invaluable thing to have.

She pretended to browse through the reference shelves while in fact peering down aisles on the lookout for Tezuka, but he made her job much easier for her by being seated in one of the first rows she checked, back up against the bookcase, elbows resting on his knees with his chin supported by his folded hands. Somehow this position, especially in a library, seemed rather undignified for a person like Tezuka, but she highly doubted that anyone would ever dare tell him so. Most likely he didn't know it, but he had the ability to appear intimidating quite effortlessly, particularly when wearing his deep, serious Thinking Frown.

She made an unhurried beeline for him, and stopped at the end of the aisle. He didn't so much as stir, his dark eyes moodily piercing the horizon ahead of him and noticing nothing closer. Deciding that she didn't really mind just being able to examine him like this, Shibasaki tiptoed over and sat herself down beside him. Leaning back, she crossed her ankles, her checkered grey flats next to his plain shoes.

She left the silence undisturbed for a few minutes as she withdrew a handheld mirror from her bag along with two tubes of lipstick. She compared them for a while, then glanced at him and asked out of the blue, "Peach or pink?"

Tezuka jumped, nearly bumping her shoulder, and turned to stare, having finally detected her presence. His mouth opened in surprise and he managed in a whisper, "Pardon?"

She held up the lipstick, one tube in each hand. "Peach or pink?" she repeated in a buoyant undertone, cocking her head.

His gaze leaped from her face to the make-up and back again, utterly nonplussed. "I - really don't know," he answered at last.

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to _know,_" she said. "I do, however, expect you to have an opinion." She gave him an expectant smile.

His brow furrowed and he looked as if he wanted to argue that point, but she dangled the lipstick in front of his forehead, not taking anything other than a concrete answer. He angled his neck away from it reflexively, eliciting an amused expression from her, and said with mingled irritation and perplexity, "...Peach, then."

She considered it for a moment, then mused, "Hmm. I think so too." She uncapped the tube with a click, puckered her lips and carefully applied a light coating, all under the discomfited scrutiny of Tezuka.

Once finished, she exhaled tranquilly and greeted him with a hushed, "Good morning."

He raised his eyebrows and then lowered them, resigning himself to her intentional quirkiness. "Good morning." She thought he threw a bit of a smile her way before looking straight ahead again.

She watched him, watched his mouth tighten, jaw harden, eyes narrow, his features shutting down one by one slowly but surely. When she'd done this for long enough, she asked simply, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not especially," he replied grimly, then looked briefly surprised at his own bluntness. But then he shrugged heavily, as if throwing that statement to the winds, and began, "It's my brother."

Shibasaki nodded calmly, having guessed this.

"He and I...we've had our differing principles, but..." Tezuka shook his head, looking down. "I knew he was involved in something, but when you mentioned the Media Betterment Committee and how it was being supported by certain members of the staff, it struck me right away."

"He's backing the movement?" Shibasaki deduced, maintaining a neutral facade.

"He might as well be." Tezuka's voice was bleak, but underneath she could plainly hear the anger, a long-harboured resentment toward his brother, and she couldn't help but wonder about its true origins. "He doesn't actually support the censorship; at least, I don't think so. But he feels that joining them for now is the best way to try to head off anything in the future - supposedly. He'd rather just take it and hope he can keep too much damage from happening than fight it." His small rant grew quieter but more forceful. "I can't stand that kind of thinking."

Shibasaki nodded. "I suppose in some ways, long-term, it does make sense," she admitted, "but to be quite frank, I can't abide it either."

He bit one corner of his lip lightly, softening his frown but giving him an even more worried look. "I just..." he whispered, but shook his head. "...I don't understand him. I can't."

"That's usually the problem, isn't it?" Shibasaki said diplomatically. "But if you keep at it, you will understand him someday. And then you'll either reject or accept him."

"I don't know if I - if I could reject him," Tezuka said despondently. "But I can't accept what he's doing. And he'll never go back to being who he used to be."

"People rarely do," Shibasaki offered calmly, "but often the change is an improvement."

"Sometimes the change is just too much." Tezuka seemed to struggle to express his turmoil. "He's completely...just completely..."

"He's not on your side anymore," she finished for him, softly, then continued, "but it's not uncommon for brothers to face each other from different lights."

When she noticed his expression begin to turn accusing, she hastened to clarify, "I'm not defending him, Tezuka. I disagree with what he's participating in, and I intend to oppose him and his committee with everything I have. But I'm condemning your hopeless attitude. Instead of giving up, instead of getting angry, why don't you just follow your own beliefs and fight him? Friends fight. Brothers fight, too."

"So do enemies."

"Do you think of him as an enemy?"

He hesitated, but declared with grim firmness, "Right now I do."

Shibasaki showed no shock or sadness at this development, but simply squared her shoulders and stated bluntly, "Either way, you still fight." She paused, then added daringly, "And I hope you won't take it the wrong way when I say that you should stand up and throw your weight into it like a man."

He gave her a raised-eyebrows I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that look, but his face relaxed, and she knew he was amused. "Even if I refused to, I wouldn't put it past you to rope me into standing with you anyway."

"See, you're beginning to understand _me _already," she pointed out, smiling dazzlingly. "Your brother is next on the list."

He looked straight at her for the first time during their encounter, and for once he wasn't frowning at all. He wasn't smiling either, but he wore a pensive expression that was far from unpleasant, and having his full attention on her at this proximity was more intense than she would have expected - it flustered her, just a little. But she was spared the effort of hiding it by the noise of a nearby footstep, disrupting their improvised library counselling session.

Galvanized into prompt action, she grabbed Tezuka by the collar and hauled him to his feet, shoving him out of the aisle just in time to avoid his being spotted by the librarian, who arrived to see a perfectly innocent Shibasaki studiously running her finger along the bindings of the books lined up in front of her. Pretending to have been jolted out of deep consideration, Shibasaki looked up and inquired distantly, "Oh, do you need me to leave?"

"No, it's not that," the librarian said, somewhat suspiciously. "I _did _think I'd heard voices here..."

Shibasaki's mask of confusion was flawless. "Well - I may have been muttering to myself, but..."

"It - it was probably nothing, dear," the librarian assured her uncertainly before meandering away.

Shibasaki kept up her award-winning routine until she was sure they were safe, and then she stepped out of the aisle to greet the slightly panicked gaze of Tezuka, who was pressed up against the side of the shelf. "Is she gone?" he mouthed.

"For the time being," she whispered back, and there was a minute of silence. Then she giggled softly at the same time as he let escape a small, relieved snicker. They enjoyed their mirth quietly until Tezuka stopped and asked suddenly, struck by the imminent dilemma,"How am I going to get out of here without being seen by the librarian?"

"Well, you could hide here until the end of the period" - she glanced at the clock on the wall - "which is only forty-five minutes away."

He looked less than enthusiastic, and she smiled humorously and reassured him, "I'll distract her."

"But..." he was clearly uncomfortable with adding more dishonesty to his ever-growing secret record, and he floundered in that gentleman's skin that he couldn't shed. "If I'm caught, you'll be in trouble as well."

She cocked her head and shrugged, unconcerned. "Don't worry, Tezuka. I trust you not to get caught."

He bit his lip again, but this time she was sure it was to keep himself from smiling.

* * *

A/N: All of the proofing tools on my Microsoft Word mysteriously disappeared this week, which was somewhat, shall we say, _annoying. _Hopefully I'll be able to get them back somehow.

So! Censorship looms on the horizon! The plot thickens...not. What does loom on the horizon is the pressure to actually think of _how, _precisely, Shibasaki and Co. will go about fighting the totally-ripped-off-of-the-series Media Betterment Committee. Sorry, folks, but I don't think they'll be donning firearms this time.

Hope you enjoyed the chappie!


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